


Scarves and Meaning

by Shea



Category: Dragon Age: Origins, Magi: The Labyrinth of Magic
Genre: Alternate Universe, Darkspawn, Dragon Age Universe, Dwarves, Elf!Spartos, Elves, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 15:59:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6812314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shea/pseuds/Shea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sharrkan might be helplessly in love with Spartos, but surely the elf doesn't feel the same way about a human, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scarves and Meaning

Sharrkan took a seat beside the campfire with a groan. "These frecking darkspawn are going to drive me nuts." He huffed as he took off his boots, dumping out the water and the solitary fish from them. "Stupid river.."

"I thought you were already nuts." Yamuraiha retorted, smirking happily from her _dry_ perch.

Sharrkan sneered. "Stupid mage.."

"What was that?"

"Don't start." Ja'far intervened, hanging his clothes to dry by the fire. He wore a simple robe instead of his usually armor, and it was obvious it bothered the assassin. "It's late. We should get some sleep."

"After some food." Sharrkan muttered, casually removing the rest of his armor until he was left in his undergarments.

"Have you no shame?" Spartos inquired as he passed Sharrkan with the pot, probably full of stew.

Sharrkan sighed dreamily. "Why are elves _so_ fucking attractive?"

The redhead sent a glare at him from the corner of his eye."Why are humans such pigs?"

Yamuraiha snorted and Sharrkan glared at her. "Whatever," He continued. "Does it bother you, Spartos?"

"Does what bother me?"

"You're the only elf here. The rest of us are humans."

"Drakon's not." Pisti pointed out, taking a break from drawing her maps.

"Well, he _was._ "

"To answer your question, Sharrkan," Spartos interrupted. "It does not bother me."

"But don't you miss your clan? Traveling all the time? Your tradition, that stuff?"

"Are you _trying_ to make me homesick?"

Sharrkan shrugged. "I'm only curious. Me, I'm glad to be away from my stupid brother."

"I still can't believe you gave up a life of nobility for _this._ " Yamuraiha cut in.

"'This' is better than being stuck at home with nothing to do. I'd rather fight darkspawn and end the Blight than sit at home and wait to die."

"This'll just make it quicker." Spartos muttered.

Sharrkan shrugged again with an exaggerated yawn. "Maybe. Maybe not."

The conversation died as Spartos and Pisti started dishing out the dinner to those still awake. Which would only be those four and Masrur, a human warrior. They ate in a comfortable silence, the only noise being the fire crackling and the occasional owl. Sharrkan found it peaceful; a beautiful contrast the their usual hectic, everyday life. He found his eyes drifting back between his food to Spartos. He'd always heard how attractive elves are; how often their used as prostitutes because of this. But Spartos was something else entirely, an ethereal beauty. Sharrkan happened to fancy whatever passed his way, which for some reason always come off as a shock to other people. But come on- if someone like _him_ were to come at anyone, they'd probably switch their sexuality without a second thought.

It wasn't like it was a big shock, either. Spartos was still fairly feminine, even with his fine muscles from years of training and fighting. His skin was smooth (sparring and bandaging him had proven much) and milky. His nearly-shoulder length hair was a crimson color that would drive any man crazy. Sharrkan personally loved the way his ears poked out from his hair, like his hair grew to accommodate the appendages. His eyes also drove the rogue crazy. They were dark orbs that were always locked, blocking everyone from truly seeing in. But sometimes, like when Spartos first told him about his brother, Mystras who was killed by humans, Sharrkan could see deeper into the dark portals. He could see the feeling and pain he'd suffered just like the rest of them.

 _No duh he's suffered._ His subconscious told him. _He's an_ elf. _They've all suffered- because of your kind. No wonder he guards himself._

Sharrkan sneered to himself and set his empty bowl by the pot. "I think I'm going to go to my tent now." He announced half-heartedly as he stood up, stretching his sore muscles.

He trudged over to said tent, collapsing on his bed roll with a loud grunt. He grabbed his bag and pulled out a long scarf. He felt bad for kind of stealing it from Spartos, but in his defense, the redhead hadn't paid it any attention when he'd "lost" it. Maybe it was creepy, borderline stalker-ish. But it smelled nice; like incense, and the woods, and something else.. like lavender or something. Something.. Spartos-ish. He loved it. And it somehow made him feel better, and put him to sleep more easily.

Was he in love with the elf? Probably. Would he ever admit it? Probably not. It was obvious he was not interested in anything romantic, sexual or otherwise. And with a human, least of all. Not to mention he seemed to loathe Sharrkan's presence all together. Sure, he had no problems with Yamuraiha, or Ja'far, or Sinbad- the Grey Warden they followed. Just, Sharrkan. Every time he came near, the redhead would find some excuse to leave. Or have some rhetorical response to anything he said. He had to wonder what his problem was, but, truth be told, he was kind of afraid to. He didn't want to cause an argument and ruin anything they had. So he was content with taking the blows with a faux smile on his face.

Sharrkan held the scarf in a bunch over his face, inhaling the elf's scent as he drifted to sleep, no doubt to hopelessly cheesy or horny dreams.

\----------------

He was awoken by his shoulder being shaken. He groaned as he opened his eyes. It was bright out, probably midday or so. Spartos kneeled above him, an unamused frown on his face. Sharrkan blinked and silently prayed to whatever gods there may be that he was _not_ here for business.

"Is this my scarf?" He asked, holding up the linen.

Sharrkan's stomach dropped down to his butt with fear. "U-Um.. Is _that_ the scarf you found? Ohh! I found it a while ago. I wondered who it could belong to. Figured they weren't missing it, so-" He chuckled nervously, hoping his face wasn't flushing as much as it felt like it was.

The Dalish male only blinked at him and handed it back. "You can have it if you really want it. It was a gift from my mother."

Sharrkan blinked again and sat up, not bothered by his bare state. Spartos didn't seem to mind too much, either. "Then.. shouldn't you keep it?"

Spartos shrugged a shoulder, moving to hug his knees. "I have no use for it, really. And I figure you'd like it more." He leaned a cheek on his knee. "She was a symbol of grace and stability in our clan."

"Your father was like your leader, right?"

Spartos nodded. "Yeah, he still is, as far as I know."

"So we're almost the same. Almost like royalty."

"We don't see it that way." Spartos replied, looking at him. "It's almost like we're one large family. And my father was just the one to guide us."

Sharrkan nodded. "I get it. Sort of. Anyway, what was your mom like? If you don't mind me asking."

"To be honest, I don't remember her much. She was killed by a whole bunch of shems when I was little. But I remember her smile, and her voice. Sometimes in my dreams, I can hear her singing to me and my baby brother. My father refused to speak about her after she died. Almost like she never existed. But Mystras would talk about her all the time. She was kind, and would feed any child or person in need. Even humans. The animals especially took a liking to her. It was hard not to. She was so young-looking, and beautiful even by elf standards." Spartos smiled wistfully. "Everyone used to compare me to her, say I look a lot like her." He paused to sigh lightly. "I hope she'd be proud."

"She would be. I'm sure." Sharrkan rested a hand on his knee. He bit his lip lightly, his stomach churning with uncertainty. "Um.. I have a question."

"Go ahead."

"You're brother and mother were both killed by humans?"

Spartos nodded.

"I have another question."

"Okay."

"Why don't you hate us? You're traveling with a whole band of humans, creatures that killed your family."

"To be honest, I hated you at first." Spartos replied. "I thought you were just some noble human, some pompous brat unknowing of the hardships in others' lives. I thought you'd be like the humans that killed them. But you're not. None of you are. You care about lives, whether they're human, elf, or dwarf. Not all humans are murderers. And, at any rate, they wouldn't want me to hate shems all my life. My mother practically preached forgiveness. So, naturally." He shrugged with implication.

Sharrkan nodded slowly. "I understand.." He looked at the scarf in his hand. It suddenly had so much more meaning to it. It held memories, history, meaning. "Are you sure you-?"

"Keep it. She would want you to. _I_ want you to." Spartos offered a small smile.

Sharrkan smiled back, wrapping the scarf around his neck. "Why would you tell me all this? I thought you didn't like me."

"I said I didn't like you at first. But you're kind. You believe in justice, and don't judge or prejudice. You're funny, sometimes." He laughed lightly at Sharrkan's offended expression. "And you're one of the most trustworthy humans I know."

Sharrkan cursed the way his heart skipped a beat several times while Spartos spoke. He smiled though, and loved the way he smiled back.

"Come," Spartos spoke, getting up. "I came to get you because your clothes have been stolen."

"What!?"


End file.
